gamelorefandomcom-20200216-history
From the Firestorm
{{Fiction |hasSetting=Firestorm Universe |storyBody=An armada of Muero ships hovered among the stars, many of them bearing the scars of previous battles. "The fleet is ready to attack, sir," reported Rarrkar (Captain) Draxx Narr. Narr was Primaag Lotraag's first link with the ship and the enemy. The position was anything but easy, but it was certainly fulfilling - more so, in fact, than any he had ever held before. Narr was a born tactician, a career warrior, whose ambition was only overshadowed by his pride. Lotraag studied the wall screen, which displayed a tactical view of their target, Earth's solar system. Rich in iron and other raw materials key to the Muero war machine's success, the system was next in its path. All that stood in their way were the humans, whose internal strife held them centuries behind the other races of the known galaxy. Inconsequential, Narr mused. In weeks, if not days, they would be nothing but a hollow memory... "What do our spies tell us?" growled the Primaag. "The soft-skins have managed to gather a motley fleet of nearly 600 ships. Various strengths from cargo freighters to battle cruisers." "They outnumber us three to one," the Primaag mused. "Considering their archaic technology, they should be little match for us, Primaag. Consider them... target practice before we reach the true threat." "The Dysori," spat Lotraag as he refocused his attention, switching the wall screen to view the Dysori home system. Only six months ago, the Muero battle fleet was repulsed at Sorvius One, the Dysori pleasure-world. The memory still brought a bitter taste to the Primaag's mouth, one even the death of the mission's fleet commander could not remove. "Sir, I have been informed we are preparing to exit the Firestorm."  "Very well. We cannot be turned back again, Rarrkar... Do you understand? Hail the Juggernauts, they will be leading the attack!" "Yes, Primaag!" Lotraag observed the pleasant sphere on the wall screen again and fought down the bile rising in his throat. Your silence is unnerving, Prosidius... What are you planning? ------  "We must help the humans!" Prefect Karynn Prosidius' voice lashed the assembled Senate, gathered about her in the tall Republic amphitheater. "Our inaction can only lead to our destruction." A Senator rose, towering above Prosidius. "Prefect, we have exhausted nearly every natural resource at our disposal. Yes, we turned back the Muero threat at Sorvius One, and we inflicted heavy casualties upon the enemy, mostly at the hand of your sister. We are grateful for your selfless defense of the planet against overwhelming odds... But now we must question your judgment. Why risk precious resources to save these... humans?"  The Prefect turned to Queen Helena, seated on her dais behind the podium. "My Queen, without action, our fate is already sealed. The Muero will strip the human system of its resources, rebuild their fleets, and attack us – this time with more power than we can possibly hope to deflect. For a time, perhaps, we might hold them off, but in the end we will be conquered. I beg of you... we must act now!"  "Your sister would never beg!" shouted another Senator. "My sister is gone, and vowed never to return," Prosidius responded. A shocked hush fell over the Senate. Karynn drew a crystal blade from a sheath at her waist and raised it high. "I am your Prefect, sisters! If any of you wish to challenge me, stand now and make it known!" The blade in Karynn's hand was famous. Her family had carried it through countless campaigns over the centuries. It spoke volumes of war, pain, and sacrifice. The grumbling through the Republic chamber fell away, as all were entranced by its gleam. "If we help the humans, we can forge an alliance. Our spies report that their situation is dire, regardless of their leaders' claims. Together, our races can drive the Muero back!" Behind the Prefect, Queen Helena stood. "That may well be," she addressed Karynn Prosidius, "but what of the Soven?" "As always, they are a mystery. We don't know where they stand but we don't believe they're allies with the Muero." Queen Helena pondered the situation before her. She could hear the Senators whispering around her, some in favor, many others against. She couldn't determine where the majority lay, but she couldn't afford any more time to sway them, either. "Prefect, I leave the decision to the Senate. Let there be a vote." One by one, the senate called out their votes – for or against the alliance. Queen Helena watched them, mentally tabulating the results. It was a close decision, and she wasn't sure of the outcome until the very last vote. "We will support you any way we can in order to achieve this alliance. May the gods grant you victory." ------  The battleship War orbited the planet Mars, the lead ship in the secondary defense of Earth, with a fleet of about seventy ships. Admiral Saul Hernandez strode the bridge of the War, as he had done twice a day for the past two months. Called out of retirement by Earth's government when the Muero fleet was first spotted, Saul was still amazed by the advancements made possible by discoveries beyond the Firestorm. Given enough time, he was sure that Earth could face the Muero on equal footing, but for now, they were wildly outgunned. Without a miracle, the Muero attack would be a slaughter. Saul's headset beeped and a young communications officer reported, "Sir, a transmission is coming in from Admiral Lowery." "Very well, lieutenant, patch it through to the conference room," replied Saul. The conference room screen lit up with the grizzled, bearded face of Saul's old friend Elias Lowery as he entered the room. The scar on Lowery's right cheek pulsed with the same fury as the crimson orb where his right eye should have been. "Admiral," Saul saluted. "It's good to see you again." "No time for pleasantries, Hernandez. What's your situation? How long do we have before the shooting starts?" Elias was never one for small talk. "Not long. They're quiet now, but if our reports are correct, they'll attack during the next sleep cycle. They seem to have picked up on our habits." "What I wouldn't give to be on the front line, on my ship..." Hernandez smiled at Lowery's jab. "Don't worry, Elias. If I'm right about our odds up here, we'll have plenty of Muero to deal with here on Mars - just as soon as they punch through our little reception fleet. Besides, taking your command wasn't my idea, remember?" "Right. If we survive this, I'll have to sit down and talk with Simon about his unusual command choices. Still, I can't think of anyone better suited for the job." "Praise Elias?" Hernandez raised his eyebrow. "From you?" "No, just stating what should be obvious. You still don't project much chance of surviving the attack?" “’Chance' would imply we had one, Elias. We don't. But I don't intend to go quietly." "That's my boy..." Saul's headset beeped again, and the communication officer's voice was patched through. "Admiral Hernandez, the Muero have exited the Firestorm. We need you on the bridge." "On my way," Saul said, glancing down at the screen. Elias had already signed off. }}